


The smile when you tore me apart

by thesweetpianowritingdownmylife



Category: Inhuman Condition (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:27:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7874386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesweetpianowritingdownmylife/pseuds/thesweetpianowritingdownmylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara asks Frank his opinion about what she should do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The smile when you tore me apart

**Author's Note:**

> The episode where this conversation happens airs TONIGHT. I've had this fic in mind for a while, but had to write it quickly because of the circumstances.  
> This is how I think it will go in the show. Let's see how right I was in a few hours.  
> Title from the song "Angels" by Within Temptation.

Frank had been in a corner, listening in that disastrous couples therapy session, so he wasn’t in the least surprised when he took Clara home and she started to methodically destroy her room. She took every single thing from every shelf and threw it to the ground, smashed the lamp on her bedside table, opened the closet and launched entire drawers across the room. He stayed out of her way, wishing he could give her the privacy that she so desperately needed. After a while, she seemed to calm down, and sat down in the middle of the debris, not feeling the broken edges poke her skin.

“What do you think I should do?” She asked the stony man that had become a steady, inescapable presence in her life. “Should I live for Linc, even though our life together could last a day for all I know, and then I’d become a monster? Or should I die on my terms and break his heart sooner rather than later? Tell me what you think.”

“No.”

“C’mon.” Clara rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have an opinion? This is the time to share it.”

Frank looked away. “I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

“You’ve seen and heard everything I have.” She pleaded. “You’re the only one who has all the information and can make an impartial judgement.”

“Impartial?” His face, usually neutral and closed off, contorted into a surprised scowl, though he regained his composure in a second. “Whatever you say.”

“I want to know what you think, for real.” She smiled mirthlessly. “Would you deny a dying girl her last wish?”

Frank scoffed. “I’ve seen you use that line for years.”

“Yeah, but this time it could be real.”

When he refused to answer her, she started picking up the mess in her room, trying to rescue the things that were whole and returning them to the shelves while ignoring Frank. He spoke up after a few minutes.

“What you want is a selfless opinion, right?”

“YES, exactly.” She dropped the books she was carrying onto her bed and turned to look at him. “Everyone who has butted in on my decision has lacked empathy. Or objectivity. I’d settle for one of the two.”

“Then I’m sorry, but I can’t give you that.”

They stared at each other for a moment, until Frank couldn’t take it anymore and left the room. He returned shortly with a broom and a dustpan and started helping her to clean up the wreck. It took almost an hour, and there wasn’t much that could be salvaged; neither of them commented that it didn’t matter, because Clara wouldn’t be using it for much longer, but it was on their minds. Once everything was more or less as it was, they sat together on her bed.

“You are not my first assignment. You knew that, right?” His voice was softer than she’d ever heard it, and infinitely careful.

Clara nodded, looking at him attentively.

“I’ve seen three people be overcome by the Hunger. It happens suddenly, and it’s impossible to predict. The body doesn’t change much, not at first. It takes at least a few days for them to look like what people would identify as walking corpses. Nowadays, of course, they don’t let it go that far, but it happens sometimes, with unsupervised members of the Deathwalk population. It is not a pretty sight.”

Hesitantly, he took Clara’s hand.

“I know you. I know how much you hate the idea of becoming that. I wouldn’t want you to experience the Hunger, even for a second. Doctors say that the person stops being themselves at that point, but there’s evidence that that’s not true, even if they try to bury it. You hear things, when you’re in the business.”

“Jesus.” She tried to contain the wave of repulsion and fear that shook her.

“Don’t you go telling your viewers, now. It would get me in serious trouble.”

Clara agreed, gritting her teeth.

“There’s also the fact that all of my other charges thought they would have more time; you’ve been in Stage 3 for over three years. You’re already pushing it as it is.”

“So that’s why you think I should get through with it?” She asked quietly.

“I think you should go through with it, but that’s not why.” He sighed. “I told you I couldn’t give you a selfless opinion. I’ve tried giving you my professional point of view of it, that’s all.”

“Then... why?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it, aren’t you?” He laughed, but there was no joy in it. “I don’t want to be the one who kills you, Clara.”

She looked away and had to wipe her eyes with her free arm. “Oh.”

“I will do my job if I have to, I won’t let you experience the Hunger for more than a few seconds, I promise. But... I would rather not do it.”

Clara squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”


End file.
